


My Name is Carl

by tigerdust



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerdust/pseuds/tigerdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story that flips through seasons 1 and 2 off camera, specifically beginning with Jack's choice at the end of Cyberwoman as to whether or not Ianto should be retconned and ramifications that has when an alien known as Carl comes to Cardiff looking for nourishment.  The remnants of the Coats and Coffee Mugs lj challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jack reworked the orange wedge through his teeth. The acidic taste of orange burned. He remembered the taste of scotch, of waking with two years of memories gone. Oranges were as close to alcohol as he could stand anymore. And today, he needed it.

"You're the biggest monster of them all!"

Ianto had said it, flung directly into the Captain's face in his worse moment of duress. The young Welshman had infrequent bouts with immaturity but was mostly quiet and dutiful. He was charming; the perfect face for Cardiff's tourist office. But, as those words twisted around, Jack knew that their lives would never be the same.

He felt the taste of the orange rind coming closer and he chucked the piece back down on the plate. Jack shook his head, burying his fingers in his hair and cried out in exasperation. Retconning Ianto might be the best for everyone involved. Jack had to admit that he wasn't the most stable on the team. Each person had a flaw, but Ianto's just seemed more engulfing than anyone else’s. 

Ianto could lie, manipulate footage. What else wasn't he telling them? What else could he have left to hide? Ever since they had been introduced, Jack reflected on the fact that Ianto’d never really spoken about Torchwood One in an unofficial capacity. He had thought once that showed amazing reserve and character, as though the young Welshman had grieved and moved on. But appearances has been deceiving.

His continental breakfast rebelled against him. Jack stared, knowing that his answers weren't to be found on the plate bearing bits of croissant and egg in front of him. He sighed and bit his lip. It‘s my duty, he thought, as a leader. Hell, it‘s probably my duty as a man. 

He grabbed his little pill box from the medicine cabinet in his bunker underneath his office and slid it into his inner jacket pocket, toying briefly with the idea of not taking it with him and saying "to hell" with procedure. Captain Jack Harkness just hated his job some days.

Nothing prepared him for what he saw when he was finally at Ianto‘s apartment complex. Jack was met by the lady that lived in the flat beneath Ianto. He was subletting and she was worried. He had always been dutiful to her and delivered mail and lemon bars from the baker up the street. His mind had been distracted, but he had been careful to cultivate an image of a work-obsessed polite Welsh bachelor. Seeing his disregard for his former persona worried Jack more than anything.

She was an older woman, just a few years from meeting the mysterious figure Jack would never get the pleasure of meeting. But Eunice Magritte spoke with clarity beyond her years. 

"Something is troubling our Ianto, Mr. Harkness. Something deep. It's been here ever since he moved from London, poor thing, be he never spoke of it. Wore a mask of indifference and politeness. How did you say you were related?"

"Distant cousin. We shared a dog once." Jack grimaced slightly and she was too far-sighted to see it. She hunched over briefly to see her azaleas a little closer, revealing bits of rolled stocking beneath her flowered dress.

"Yes. You must be close otherwise you wouldn't have come. I know he'll hate me for it, but I'll go and fetch the spare key. Maybe you're what he needs Mr. Harkness." She hobbled away and returned quite quickly, leaving Jack with his thoughts for only a moment. He felt the weight of the small box in his jacket pocket heavily.

The stereo was on. The lights were off. The room wreaked of alcohol and havoc. There had been a rummage of the cabinets and even some bits of biscuit trailed all over the carpet from the kitchen to the large couch that Ianto was snoring on. In his hand was a metallic chain, the bits of a key still hanging from it.

"Oi! Ianto." 

There was no response. He slammed the door shut, but Ianto just looked towards the noise with that same kind of glazed sleeping look. Jack was glad the downstairs neighbor had left before she had seen this. Then Ianto rolled over on his couch unceremoniously with his back to Jack. His bony shoulders popped through his button down shirt, barely hid by the carelessly flung jacket.

"What is this music?"

Jack went to the record player, still functional and popping with the grooves of being played for hours on end. Jack picked up the jacket cover and watched it reflect off of the bare slats of light coming from between the blinds. Pink Floyd's the Wall album. Was it her favorite or his? It explained so much about humanity in general, how they railed against insignificance and gave everything just for one moment of blissful recognition and glory. A character flaw? A weakness? 

Jack wasn't sure how even to categorize it, but he knew that it helped the race strive as a whole and it would be integral in those first peace talks come mid-century when the Arkians needed human ingenuity against the Sontaran brotherhood. That was a can of worms he truly didn't want to deal with yet.

He looked back toward the can of worms on the couch holding a key. He imagined briefly what that key was for. He thought about the warehouse he must have been living and hiding Lisa in. The place here had no real personality, save for the record player. Or maybe it was a locker somewhere that he had kept diagrams. Maybe it was his hope chest and all hope had been lost. Maybe it was a souvenir or a relic of his mysterious past. Jack wasn't sure he was in the mood to ask or to entertain a pity party. He would have helped Ianto if he had known, if he had known how. But, much like Lisa, they were far past that now.

As he turned on the humming lights of the kitchen and Ianto seemed to reacting with a grating hiss, Jack thought about the younger man’s devotion to Lisa and how Torchwood needed that. Ianto had been right, they had taken his everything for granted. From filing to coffee and beyond that, Ianto Jones had been the most integral and yet the most overlooked of all the Torchwood employees since this branch had begun. He had become the backbone and, had this incident not occurred, probably the closest thing Jack could have had to a confidant. He looked from the little box that he had absentmindedly plucked from his pocket to the man crumpled against the couch. 

What would Jack do without him? What would Ianto do without Torchwood? RETcon the man and give him his peaceful ending, a voice said in Jack’s mind. It seemed cruel somehow to do this, like a mistake. As though Torchwood and the paranormal were part of Ianto Jones and that Ianto Jones was part of them.

The sound of water hitting glassware caused Ianto to spring into a sitting position, eyes still glazed over. "Sir." 

Those were his only words, bleak and expectant. He weighed each portion from the top of the capital s to the dot just hanging over the I. The r rolled into desperate non-existence and there was something close to a squeak at the end of it.

"I hope you don't mind me barging in." Jack sat opposite him on the cluttered coffee table, a picture of the prime minister just under his left cheek.

"No. I've done worse to you." Ianto waved him off and then looked at Jack. Just for a second. In a way that made Jack gulp. "Before I take this I want to say..."

Jack shook his head. Bearing your soul before retcon did no one any good. It left the listener with hints of guilt and left the other feeling unfulfilled when they woke up. "No. You were right. Not about everything but about me. Maybe now, with Gwen, things can change. I haven't had a heart in a very long time."

"No. But you wouldn't want one, would you? Watching all those people and loved ones die. It must be worse for you than anyone."

Everyone but the Doctor, Jack thought unsettlingly. "Don't count yourself out of the human race yet, Ianto. I can't imagine any fate worse than that." 

Ianto shrank from Jack's hand on his limp, anorexic arm. Ianto wouldn't take his eyes off of Jack while he took the glass of water from his former boss. Jack didn't breath for the entirety of Ianto chugging the contents of the glass.

"How long, then? How far back?" Jack didn't answer Ianto, just letting him talk. "I've saved a bit of money. Don't worry about me. You should go before I fall asleep and wake up. Did you run into the woman in the flat below? I hope that won‘t complicate things."

"I never noticed how skinny you are. Ianto, do you eat?"

"Biscuits and tea mostly. I haven't been that fond of food since I spent my resources mostly on..."

"It was a mistake. Not loving her, but hiding her. That was your only mistake. If you'd just been honest with me…."

"Then what?” Ianto’s voice turned raspy and defensive on a dime. “You'd have had me unplug her? Face the reality of my dismal situation? Had me admit all the things I can actually do if I set my mind to it? No thanks, Jack. I don't need that kind of pressure in my life. No, maybe a quiet desk job at an actual tourist office or a travel center. Maybe I'll move. I was only in Cardiff for her."

"What if I told you there was only water in that water?"

Ianto gave a small, wry smile. "Procedure. Now who's made the mistake?"

"Both of us. I can't let you rejoin the human race like this. I want you to stay on a trial basis. I want you to learn how to live. I want to help you. I blame Gwen and her bloody caring for everything. If not for her, you would be asleep by now." 

Ianto raised his empty glass in a mock toast. "Yes, well, to Gwen Cooper then. I could turn you down, you know."

"But you won't."

"And you know this because..."

"Because I am the Captain Jack Harkness. And you are more than just a brick in the wall."

Ianto winced. "That was her favorite album." His eyes went wide and he fell back to the couch as he tried to stand and found his knees cramping. "The album!"

Jack moved quickly, stopping the machine and the grooves going deeper and deeper into the vinyl. "That better?"

"Much." Ianto put his hand over his forehead as he sunk back into the couch. "Where do we go from here?"

"You report Monday morning. You report to me and then we'll go from there. No more secrets and no more hiding though."

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Does it work both ways? I know what I said, however..."

"You were right in more ways than you know."

"I'd like to know."

Jack folded his arms. "No, you wouldn't."

"Don't be contradictory, Jack. How am I supposed to trust you when I don't receive anything in return?"

Jack considered it. "Point taken. But you'll have to keep a broad mind. Things were different then. And I don't remember everything anyways."

"I'm not asking for everything Jack."

"And what are you asking for?"

"An end to this bloody cramp in my knee."

"Here." Jack leaned down, squeezing in past the coffee table again. He rolled up Ianto's pant leg, to much protest, and began to massage. Ianto felt himself relaxing against his better judgment.

"Is this how you get them the first time?"

"Only with the complicated ones." Jack smiled at Ianto, a suggestive bit of a smirk following.

"I suppose I wouldn't be the first, would I?"

"Yes you would." Ianto looked down, confused. "You'd be the first to really know me. You'd be the first intimate one in..."

"I'm not intimate anything yet."

"You could be."

"No I couldn't."

"And why not? I'm not up to your standard?"

Ianto gaped his mouth slightly. "That's not what I'm saying!"

"Calm down, Ianto. Calm down. Look, you're tense. Just let me give you a massage and we'll take it one step at a time, then. Alright?"

"I suppose a massage is friendly, isn't it?"

"Innocent. Completely innocent."

"Yeah, and Owen only goes to the bars for the music and free peanuts."

Jack chuckled as Ianto led him to his small bedroom. The place was feminine and the curtains were flimsy bits of lace. Ianto faced a blank wall, but there was still the issue of the lace. He shrugged away the look. "I haven't had time to redecorate and we saw no reason...I'm sorry. Lisa saw no reason why I should spend good money getting new curtains."

It was progress, trying to separate the we from himself, trying to disassociate painful memory from an even more uncertain present and an exotic future. Ianto Jones faced Jack Harkness and didn't breathe for exactly four seconds. Jack turned him around.

"I can't massage through clothing."

"I knew that." Ianto began to fumble with his buttons.

"Here." Jack was behind him, breath hot against Ianto‘s neck. He fell against the heartbeat and watched as Jack skillfully paused at each button and then reached the button to his pants. Ianto regained enough of his senses in that second to untuck the last bits of the crumpled shirt and throw it unceremoniously into the corner. He mentally ticked dry cleaning on the list. He'd want the shirt pressed anyways.

It was easy to feel Jack's hands under his arms and guiding his nervous weight onto the bed. In a moment, Jack was over him and Ianto watched the two shadows intertwine in the corner. He felt wrong and raw in the hands of the Captain. He felt like salt was touching unknown open wounds. He felt old and exasperated. He felt abandoned and unloved.

Then he began to feel the weight moving just a little left of center. He began to feel Lisa moving from cybernetic material to coffee the morning after a wet beach and a small bout with pneumonia. He began to feel the hands of Jack move over each knot and deep pain, judging them and working them until Ianto couldn't stand not seeing him anymore, not looking into his eyes. He had slept for too long. He had been asleep for too long. But he couldn't turn.

"Not yet." Jack whispered, his hands never ceasing.

"When?" Ianto cried out desperately.

"You aren't ready yet. I won't replace her,” Jack responded sadly.

Ianto wanted to cry, crumpling in on himself as best he could while Jack's knees were set on both sides of himself. Then Jack went to work again on the fresh tension and knots. Where he learned to massage so well without oils or ambiance did wonders on Ianto. 

A second time he tried to turn and face Jack. He heard the sound of something rustling, but still couldn't move. "No, Ianto."

"Sir?"

"Almost. But there's more pain."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who massages your pain away?"

Jack stopped for a moment, thinking. "In a way, you do. And Owen does. Toshiko, Gwen, even Suzie did." 

"But what about now?"

"I just said."

"I know, but does anyone do what you're doing for me?"

"Some try, most fail," Jack said with a resigned air.

"I don't know much about massaging, sir, but I'm more than I appear."

"I know, Ianto. I know."  
Moments passed and finally Ianto was allowed to flip over and look at Jack. Really look at him.

"What?"

"You are an awful liar." Ianto kissed Jack, mimicking the kiss they'd had after Lisa had left the main area of the Hub. They both needed life and something, neither wanting to be insignificant. Even if just to each other.

Jack was exhausted by the time he fell against Ianto and the bed, his elbow resting against the mattress. "My God, that scent Jack. What is it?"

"Fifty-first century pheromones."

"You smell like heaven. You can't smell like that."

"But I do."

"Jack, I..."

"Shut up and kiss me again."


	2. Chapter 2

"Her name was Edith Pooch." Ianto stood at the front of the glass conference table and used the clicker to shift through the slides. Jack's brow furrowed as Gwen bit down on her lip. "Found face up and drowned in her garden early this morning by a friendly neighbor."

"Any recent mysterious occurrences in the region?"

"Not that we can tell." Ianto nodded, as if confirming his supreme confidence in the facts.

"We've even checked past records on the property dating back to the earliest recorded times for that section of town." Jack's gaze shifted back from Gwen’s addition to the conversation to Ianto, who had one arm behind his back as he spoke.

"What about the pensioner herself?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. No hobbies, no book clubs, no real circle of friends. All we can tell is that she spent her last days gardening these tomatoes to supplant her income." 

"Then how did she…"

"The preliminary facts sheet reports the death as asphyxia drowning“, Gwen droned on as her police training took over, “as though a large sheet of ice had been forced down her throat. Ice could make the perfect murder weapon. Martha's gone to personally check the facts and assist in the coroner's autopsy."

Jack blinked, his brow relaxing. "Good. If there's anything to report, I trust Martha to find it."

Gwen's phone began beeping. She leapt from her chair as she checked the caller id. "I'd best take this. It's Andy calling."

Jack nodded and she walked briskly to get better reception. Ianto felt those eyes bearing down on him. It only made him uneasy in the way of the stare. What if he had to scratch his nose? Ianto supposed that was the risk he took being Jack's current shag. He didn't expect anything less than the leers. As inappropriate as they are for the workplace, it make Jack more charming somehow. As though he'd never quite grown-up. The day that he stopped looking would be the way Ianto worried.

-Across Cardiff-

Archer Thames worked as a member of the custodial support staff. The office building was mostly abandoned at this point in the night, save for two skeleton security guards, himself, and a pet pit bull named Ritchie, who mostly just wagged his tail and woofed with his giant jowls at anyone who got close to him. The pup couldn't defend himself against a container of pudding, Archer told himself. But Ritchie did a lot for the morale of the "ghost crew", as they called themselves.

The overhead lights were on the blink again. The company had promised new overheads for the past three months. But Archie knew that there would be no hustle. After all, this is the most abandoned part of the building. Sent most of this work over to Laos and Cambodia, where they can slash the price by a third, Archie grumbled to himself, thinking it was a real shame and how his job would be in jeopardy soon enough.

The blinking of the lights created a nervous flicker over the walls. Archie didn't like being on this floor so late at night. He preferred working down near the legal secretaries, who he knew would still most likely be here despite their desires to be in their overpriced beds in their overpriced shoeboxes called flats in Cardiff. 

For Archie's money, however, it was all about feeling like home. And Ritchie was the closest to home he knew nowadays. A howl at the end of the hallway broke into Archie‘s thoughts and Archie shined his flashlight though he had trouble seeing that far.

Damn dog, he thought. Likely to scare me half to death. The wheels on his mop bucket creaked badly and his arthritis flared up a bit as he tried to drag the mop bucket along with his fifty-five year-old body. The light didn't improve the closer he got towards the howl.

The mop bucket spilled as he came around the corner. "Damn it, Ritchie! Come! You've made me spill the mop bucket!" But there was no reply save for another howl; one that was not coming from that floor. Archie gulped. Something was moving towards him. Something was coming out of the darkness.

"Who's there?" He didn't recognize his own voice.

-3 Hours Later-

"Time of death was estimated three hours prior. Seems that Mr. Thames went missing from duty call for an hour. He had been known to be extremely punctual and both guards found this as odd." Ianto was clicking away while managing a Skype satellite to Jack as he and Gwen maneuvered the SUV back to the Hub. Martha had been contacted and was awaiting the next body in a line of increasingly bizarre and mysterious death that reeked of Torchwood.

"Anything you noticed, Gwen?" Jack's voice had slight static as the waves transferred from his computer in the Hub to the vehicle.

"No, Jack. This man was just as ordinary and out of the way as Mrs. Pooch. No past history of anything abnormal, not even a library debt to his name."

"See if you can find anything." Jack's arms crossed his body, making that defiant pose that caused Ianto's pulse to race. "We're missing something hear."

"Hold on a minute Jack." Ianto's phone buzzed. "Hello? Yes, Karen. You noted what? I'll tell him. Thanks. See you Saturday." He clicked the headset near his ear and stared at Jack.

"Tell me what? Who was that Ianto?"

"Our favorite detective's new assistant. We've made plans for dinner."

"Ianto! That's terrific!" Gwen smiled.

"So should I be amused or jealous that you're telling me this?" Jack's voice tinged with a hint of pain, but only so Ianto could receive it.

"Trust me, sir, the infatuation is merely one-sided."

"But which one side?"

"If you have to ask, then you already know the answer."

"Okay boys! What did Karen say?" Gwen slammed the brakes a bit heavy at a red light, jolting Ianto's brain.

"Oh yes. Apparently Mr. Thames was also the owner of a young pit bull that resided in the building while he cleaned. Karen was adding the information that the dog died at the same moment as the current victim."

Jack's face set in determination. "I hate when we're missing something. Get back to the Hub now. I think we all need a cup of invincibility."

"I do have some of that Kenyan blend left you begged me for on Boxing Day."

"We'll be back directly, Jack." Gwen's hand moved over and clicked the escape key on the terminal.

"What was the point of interrupting that?" Ianto's glare froze squarely on Gwen.

"Just a bit of a talk. So…you and Karen? Tell me what's going on Ianto." Gwen smiled broadly. And that was the last Jack heard of them for an hour.

Jack paced from his office to the center of the Hub and then progressed further through the underground base. Jack continued from the Archives to the little fridge he kept under the coffee machine. Martha had sent him moon pies from New York. Horrible for your digestion, but the chocolate and marshmallow calmed Jack. He was worried, unprecedented level of worry.

The SUV hadn't yet returned with its two occupants. The vehicle had to have been intact; otherwise Tosh's alarm system would have alerted his computer personally with instructions and type of accident. Jack knew Gwen and Ianto wouldn't just mysteriously disappear from the face of the Earth. Well, not this week at least.  
His phone beeped and he jumped as he answered Rhys, who was calling four blocks from the flat he shared with Gwen. Jack hurried into the frosty Welsh day, barely noting the sound of the Hub alarms as he left.

"The car looks like it was just…frozen. No one noticed, called the police. Thought it might have been abandoned." Rhys expression was one of slight panic, but the gears in Jack's brain weren't picking up on it. He was thinking of a possible way to triangulate position between here and the last known moments of the call from the trade building where Mr. Thames and dog had been found, presumably murdered.

"Did you say frozen?" Jack walked around the car. The windows were up and they were both steamed over. If Jack didn't know Gwen and Ianto better, he thought they might have been into a session of heavy petting. He ignored the mild buzz of jealousy that played in the space between his ears.

"I couldn't make that up if I wanted to!" Rhys arms widened in a moment of self-expression and then clamped back towards the pocket of his coat. "What do you think we should do Jack?"

Jack exhaled through his nose. "There's only one way to find out if they're in there." His gaze caught sight of the perfect rock and Jack plucked it from the ground.

Rhys eyes went wide and his hands went in front of the rock. "No Jack! You can't. If they're in there then they'll be shattered if the inside is as frozen as the window!"

"That's the risk we have to be willing to take." It took a forcible amount of strength for Jack to not roll his eyes in Rhys direction. What kind of idiot did the truck driver take him for?

"Maybe you are." Rhys grimaced and then planted a fist into the glass. "But I'm not."

It was more effective than the rock, truth be told. The car began to break apart into brittle shards. First one window, followed by the windshield. The split from the windshield made its way to the lights and then down through the undercarriage, wrapping its way around the car. The only way to describe the vehicle moments after impact was shattered. The SUV had been abandoned.

Jack began dutifully sifting through the wreckage and found the one thing he needed to link the mysteries. The indestructible gray box that recorded the movements of the SUV. Jack cradled the object as though he were holding a small child.

"And what is that? An alien-scanning device? Covering your tracks, you little piece of shit?! While my girlfriend goes missing, possible dying…!"

"Will you calm down Rhys?" Jack's voice was reminiscent of a command. "This is the SUV's recording device. We use it currently for tracking and monitoring purposes. I'm going to take it back to Hub and find Gwen and Ianto."

"Then I'm coming with you." Rhys took steps that matched Jack's footprints.

Jack turned. "Oh no you're not." Jack had a definite "no Rhys in the Hub if at all possible" policy in effect.

"Bull shit. She's my wife."

Jack didn't have time for this. He bore his teeth down at Rhys, using some dark intimidation that he wasn't so fond of. "Yes, she is. And chances are that I'll make sure she comes home. So why don't you go there and wait for her instead of getting into messes that will cause me to drag your ass out when you fall into quicksand. Or would you prefer that?"


	3. Chapter 3

The clock moved at a rapid pace as the computer hummed along. Humans, Jack thought, so dependent on technology. Time was that he would have used a map, detective work, and retraced steps. But he wasn't sure he had time for that. Jack hated the dependency on decoders, scanners, the Internet. And what's worse was Gwen's last dinner conversation with him and Ianto was running through his mind.

"Sounds like Dementoids to me."

"Dementoids?" Jack had helplessly quirked his eyebrow in puzzlement.

Ianto spoke after taking a long sip of tea. "You mean dementors, Gwen."

"Dementors." Jack let the word fall from his mouth.

"They're this kind of monster in the wizarding world."

"This is the real world Gwen." Jack emphasized the word real, just to double check his own sanity at this conversation.

"Yes, well, if we're dealing with an influenced being like Bilis, why couldn't something take the form of a Dementor?"

"Why would something take the form of a dementor period?"

Ianto sighed. "The dementors are evil creatures in J.K. Rowling's fantasy kingdom. They guard a wizard prison and feed on happiness in the soul, leaving all bad memories to coalesce into one debilitating experience. They're colder than the rings of Saturn, presumably, and kill people with a kiss. However, this is reserved only for the most evil and corrupted of wizards."

Gwen looked his way. "You read Harry Potter, Ianto?"

"Yes, well, we must keep with the times, Gwen."

"I can't believe this conversation." Jack sighed, his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose.

-After A Bit of Detective Work-

Five minutes ago it had been a rowdy club. However, taking a cue from Captain Hart, Jack had cleared the place with his weaponry and psychic paper, lifted conveniently from his last and final Tardis expedition. The silver box had been tampered with. Whoever had Gwen and Ianto knew of the technology. In the aftermath of the static, Jack had heard just two words, an address.

One man did not move from his stool. He was hunched forward in the shadows over a mug of beer that he did not drink. Shouts from Jack did nothing to elicit a response. There was something unnatural about the way he sat that suggested that he wasn't put in such a position of his own volition. A bubble of air caught itself in Jack's throat as he crept closer to the shadow, but the crack of a clue stick made Jack jump and spin.

There was a man there, or very close to a man anyways. He reminded Jack more of this version of death that hung over advertisements for Halloween stores. But even his smile looked evil, which worried Jack. Nonetheless, the captain's cavalier ethics got the best of him and he half marched and half swaggered over to the billiard player.

"You aren't scared of me?"

"Why should I be Jack?"

"I don't know." Jack did a model of an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe because I have a weapon?"

The black-robed man coughed as he hefted a solid red billiard ball in the air and then caught it as it fell back in a clean arc. "In a pinch, anything can be turned into a weapon. Your gun, this cue stick, even fear."

Jack stood up straighter. "Fear." A bit of comprehension dawned on him.

"Yes, Jack. Tell me what your fear is." The man who was definitely a skeleton stood taller than him by almost a head. But Jack moved forward, leaning against the pool table anyways.

"Where are Gwen and Ianto?"

"Who?" The skeleton blinked with a sort of irreverent ignorance.

Jack's teeth began to grind as he spoke. "Where are they?"

"How should I know the whereabouts of the rest of Torchwood?"

"Because I never announced the name of my precious organization or my own."

The skeleton chuckled. "Very good. Hart told me you were good, but this is rare."

"What is?"

"A man who doesn't fear death."

"Yes, well. I've met death and you're not it."

"No, I may not be. But that is what you see, which actually interests me a bit more. However, you're being extremely rude Captain. What is it that you fear?"

"Why should I tell you?" The words moved like bullets through Jack's throat.

"Because I have someone here who is curious to know."

The skeleton's bony index finger gestured to the figure. The man slid from the stool and out of the darkness. The light of the pool table against his features made Jack gasp.

If you can give it, I can take it 

"You see, Jack, I have a very good reason for asking."

"What have you done to him?" Jack's fingers deftly hit the hammer of his revolver.

"Now put that away Jack. You wouldn't want to hit poor Ianto and kill him, now would you?"

"What have you done to him?" Jack's voice shook with equal parts rage and human fear he easily compartmentalized into action and strategy. Well that was, when Ianto wasn't in the direct line of fire as a shield against this morbid Reaper want to be.

"Me?" The creature pointed toward itself as it caressed Ianto‘s shoulders. "Why is it always me who gets blamed when you damn yourself? No, Jack. I've made Ianto better; stripped him of all doubts. He's so much more attractive now, don't you agree?"

Jack's lunch almost flew from his stomach when the skeleton tilted Ianto's head back and kissed him. Jack convinced himself that wasn't Ianto's corpse. It was cold, almost tinged blue. The eyes were docile without that sharpness around the edges that was part of Ianto's signature being.

"And Gwen?"

"Oh yes; the young woman. She put up quite a fight and eventually ran. It's really a shame that she'll kill herself after having lost her mind. Finding Rhys and you in the Hub, both dead from gunshot wounds at ten paces." His teeth chattered in the place of a clicking tongue. "That's bad form Jack. Letting jealousy get in the way of work."

"I won't let you get away with this."

"Why shouldn't I? Maybe you could just run away and see the Doctor again."

Jack snarled. "How do you know so much about us?"

"Your humanity calls me Death. The vampire called me a demon. You would call me an alien, I suppose. I am neither but I am also all three."

"No more bullshit then. Let him go."

The skeleton continued on. "You think I would do that just because you ask? Oh, and I’m being so rude, not introducing myself. Of course, not even the debonair Captain Jack Harkness can possibly pronounce my name, but let's call me…Carl. You see, I come to this planet once every three years to feed upon the fear of the inhabitants. My predecessor was obviously too greedy and so I've conceded myself, after that ugly Ice Age incident, to just heckling places where I'm drawn. And this town seems to be the epicenter of fear which lands squarely on the shoulders of your employment opportunity."

"So feed and be done then, but leave Ianto out of this!"

"Oh, I can't do that Jack. He's just too delicious, too much of a delicacy to just kiss like the elderly. No, I think I'll take Ianto with me. Possibly as my heir."

"I won't let you leave this planet with him."

"And how do you intend to stop me? I can't be killed by any weapon your civilization has come up with."

"We'll see about that."

Three shots rang out clear across the table. The skeleton tumbled back slightly with impact and then bore again to his full height. "See? Now I suggest that you just leave this place and forget Ianto."

"I refuse. I'd rather…"

"What? You'd rather kill him?" The skeleton doubled over with laughter. "That's rich. No, you could kill Suzie, but you weren‘t in love with her. Not like this at least. You couldn't even do it when you were betrayed by him."

The clock on the far wall continued to drip with time, each second passing and hitting Jack's brain as a hammer. There was a physical heaviness associated with the revolver, now. His hands shook slightly, but his aim was still steady.

They'd had this conversation once. It had been another one of those moments after a particularly tough mission. The mission had led to a long thrashing in the sheets beneath Jack's office, which was his favorite part of most difficult missions.  
Ianto's face had been bathed in subtle light as the red color of a hard workout paled in his face and his heart rate began to slow back to normal. His ear was pressed against Jack, who happened to be stifling a rather large yawn with a smaller one.

"Jack, what do you fear?"

Jack smiled as Ianto turned, an eagerness ringed about the words. Jack could see plainly that he was loved, even if Ianto could convince himself that it was just about the nightly relations. Ianto was the only man in this century allowed to see behind Jack's façade. It was this way to make everyone's life easier. After all, if you can't confess to the man loyal enough to keep a half-converted Cyber, then could you confess to anyone?

"Being alone."

Ianto began to kiss his fingers. "We're all alone eventually."

Jack smiled warmly. "Not if you continue to deny looking forward."

"But isn't that who you are?"

"Not when you've seen it already. It gets boring watching the same patterns repeat themselves."

"Can you promise me one thing, Jack?"

"Just one?"

Jack wasn't sure if a skeleton could be stunned. But the look that passed between the two as Jack pulled the trigger and shot straight through Ianto's heart was one that could have stopped time. And for a second, that might have possibly occurred.

Ianto didn't move or even register the shot, save for the hole where his heart should have been. The river of coolant that leaked from the skeleton, whom the bullet passed through as well, sent a shriek over the tense silence of the bar. He fell, dissipating into tiny droplets of water, steam, and ice.

Jack leapt over the table and caught Ianto as he began to fall. In his arms, Ianto looked accomplished, almost warm and happy. There was a radiance that moved through his body quickly.

Ianto began to blink rapidly as the hole in his body began to close up as though a bullet had never passed through it. "What happened?"

Jack kissed him. "I kept my promise."


End file.
